The sweltering sun succumbs to sudden storm,

My sunbleached bones refreshed and cooled.
Whereas I surrendered my flesh and blood before this shrine long ago,
My skeleton (made fireproof) is promised at last.
May all my bones become sharpened instruments in the grace of those hands,
In the possession of an expert on better uses and silver linings.
My fingertips tethered to butterflies,
I am tought to dance,
As puppeteers teach dolls theater.